“I’ll be over there reading.”

He points to a lounge area.

He always has a book with him.

“You just have three rules right now, Ellie.

Enjoy.

No limits.

Take your time.”

My eyes lock onto

an orange peasant top with

embroidered turquoise flowers,

my two favorite colors.

At first I think it’s probably not in my size.

But I discover it is.

Everything is!

I’ve never had so many

cool clothes to choose from.

Or had a store like this to shop in.

Even the mannequins here

are my size.

I’m Charlie in the chocolate factory.

FEELING PRETTY

“I love your store.

I don’t know where to start!”

I tell Diana.

“Thanks.

I’ve dreamed of having

a shop like this since

I was your age.”

Diana leans on a display near me

as I search the racks of shirts and jeans.

“You’re lucky,” she says.

“Finding plus-size clothes is easier now.

When I was young,

clothes for zaftigs were just ugh.”

She places one hand on her neck,

as if the memories strangle her.

Zaftig means “pleasantly plump.”

It comes from

the Yiddish word zaftik.

Bobeshi spoke Yiddish

all the time,

so I know that word.

But no positive word for fat

would ever be in Mom’s vocabulary.

“So my mom learned to sew,” Diana continues.

“She created patterns just for my body.”

I feel a twinge of envy

thinking about having a mom like hers,

someone who accepts us

and adapts the world to fit us,

instead of trying to make us

fit in the world.

Every time I get a chance,

I glance at Diana and

notice things about her.

Like how she wears

an off-the-shoulder shirt and short skirt

to show off her curves

—instead of hiding

as much of her body as possible,

like I do.

How she wears bright yellow

—instead of a dark color.

How she walks with confidence,

head held high,

happy to be seen

—instead of looking down at the floor,

like I do.

I want to be more like Diana.

Free to be me.

A zaftig.

I wish I were an octopus

as I shop.

Two arms can’t hold

all the clothes I want.

For the first time,

I find things that make me feel

pretty.

I’M A STARFISH

When I get back home from

Diana’s boutique,

I try something new.

The pool’s always been my escape.

The place I feel weightless

in today’s fat-obsessed world.

I swim each morning and

try to hold on to that feeling

throughout the day.

But by the time school’s over,

I feel every pound, plus

the added weight of shame

from all the comments and pranks.

The pool helps wash it all away.

Now I want the pool to be something more,

not only a place to escape,

but also a place to express myself.

As I float,

I spread out my arms

and my legs.